The Tale of Boy and His Diary
by xForeversEndx
Summary: Oneshot! It's been done before but why not? Draco loses his diary. Who finds it you ask? None other than his very muse for writing, Harry James Potter. What could possibly be written in that diary that upsets Draco so to lose it? Rated for language


_5 December 1995_

_Dear Journal...,_

_I can't believe I'm actually doing this but Blaise told me I need to start writing stuff down before I go barmy so... Here I am. My name is Draco Malfoy. I'm a sixth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I've actually become pathetic enough to start writing in a bloody diary. _

_Maybe I should explain where this started... Well, here it goes. I'm gay. Yes, Prince of Slytherin, heir to the Malfoy throne, Cold Hearted-"Sex god" of Hogwarts, is a complete, and utter pouf. I always have been. Blaise is the only one who knows though so keep your sodding mouth shut. Oh listen to me. Who the eff are you gonna tell? You're a book. _

_Anyway, me being a closet fag isn't that big of a deal. It's more, who I'm a fag for that's causing me so much bloody trouble... I, Draco Malfoy, am in love with none other than... Harry fucking Potter. Go ahead. Laugh. I've been after him since fourth year... sigh. At first is started as this... lust. I mean you can understand that, right? I mean he's Harry Potter. Who wouldn't want him?_

_And then, to my serious dismay, the lust turned into this... ridiculous school boy crush. They say he's going to be the saviour of the wizarding world, you know. About half way through my fourth year I found myself chasing after the damn golden boy with the rest of his bloody fangirls. In secret, of course. The triwizard tournament was that year and... well... I was just as star-struck as everyone else. *blushes*. But I covered my tracks well... Supported the bloody Hufflepuff boy. Don't get me wrong, given the chance, I'd shag Diggory til neither of us could move but... I'd much rather have Harry instead. _

_I'd give to have any of that back... The Dark Lord rose that year. My father went from being an abusive bastard to an abusive bastard who was bent on making me a Death Eater. I don't want to be a bloody fucking Death Eater. Thanks to Potter last year, he's rotting in Askaban. With dad out of the picture old Voldie's leaving me alone. For now. I'm left with my mother. All she does is drink herself loopy and remind me of just how worthless I am. _

_Which leads me to where I am now. They say Potter is the Chosen One. The only problem is... the only one's he's going to save are the good ones. Gryffindors. Aurors. Not me. People like me get left in the dust because let's face it, Harry Potter hates me. He hates me and I love him and that's how its going to stay. Well he's off saving everyone else, I'll sit back, forgotten, when I need him most. _

_Because I need to someone to save me. Oh bloody hell, do I need someone to save me. From my mother, my father, You Know Who, but mostly myself. I hate myself. It would surprise Merlin himself to hear it, but I despise myself. I put my fist through a Mirror last week because I was sickened at my reflection. That's when Blaise insisted that I start writing. _

_I'm just tired. Tired of everything. I'm not sure what I'll do when I go home for the winter Holidays just to hear mother telling me drunkenly what's wrong with me. I already know what's wrong with me. I really don't need reminding... _

_Because I already want to pick up the shattered pieces of my life and drag it across my wrist. _

_Merlin knows I don't need reminding. _

_Brokenly yours,_

_Draco Malfoy. _

I close the notebook, wiping the sudden wetness from my eyes. I scold myself, swallowing a very unwelcome lump in my throat, and glance over at Blaise. I will never, ever, admit this out loud, but that actually helped a bit...

I glance down at my hands, spattered with black ink smudges from my haste to get all that out. I cap the inkwell and set it with my quill on my wooden night stand and proceed to stare at the wall. Green. Slytherin green. God I've learned to hate that colour. My thoughts shift over to Potter's eyes. Green. Emerald green. Heaven knows I've learned to love that colour.

Blaise says there's no difference between the two. I say there's all the difference in the world. Sighing again I put the book in my nightstand drawer locking it with a quick charm. It's dinner time. Not that I'm hungry. I hardly ever am.

_6 December 1995_

_I had another nightmare last night... _

_Another bloody nightmare. I'm so tired of these dreams. Last night's was pretty bad. Father came home. As he hit me, I cried, and Mother stood off to the side shouting that they never wanted a son and then the Dark Lord showed up and branded me with the mark. When I finally got away I looked in the hall mirror just to see my father's refection in the glass. And then I saw Harry. He was coming up behind me with some sword in his hands._

_He put it to my throat and I begged him to spare me and he told me that Death Eaters don't deserve to live and he's been waiting years for a chance to kill me. _

_All I can really say is thank god for the Silencing Charm I put around my curtains because I woke up crying... _

_I look like hell this morning. I've got these damn shadows under my eyes, I can't get my hair to lay down and my eyes are red and bloodshot. I think Blaise suspects there's something wrong because he's been giving me these... looks all morning. _

_I hate to admit this but I get these nightmares a lot. Some are worse than others and sometimes I wake up screaming. Ever since the summer after my fourth year when Father invited the Dark Lord himself to our manor, I very seldom sleep through the night. I have to go to breakfast now._

_Draco Malfoy_

Just as I'm placing the book in my nightstand Blaise decides to actually speak to me.

"Are you alright?" I don't like the look of the cautious expression he's wearing. I must look pretty bloody pathetic...

"I'm fine." My voice is scratchy from my antics last night. "Why?" Blaise stares for a moment.

"You don't look so great." He pauses. "Did you have another one of those dreams last night?" I curse under my breath at his ability to read my face like a book.

"Yeah but... it's fine." I mumble. "Just a dream." He doesn't look convinced but doesn't press further.

_7 December 1995_

_I think Harry caught me staring today. What do you expect though? Snape was dumb enough to pair me with him. _

_He was so close. Part of me wanted to reach out and touch him. Needless to say, I turned more than a little red when he looked over at me to find me staring. I covered it up with some insult about his glasses and he seemed to buy it because he bit back with a retort._

_He told me he'd gladly take them off if it meant he didn't have to look at me anymore, which hurt a hell of a lot more than I'd like to admit. I didn't say anything else for the rest of the hour but I couldn't concentrate with him so close to me._

_I kept messing everything up like the failure I am and... well... Potter couldn't help but point out how bad I was ruining the potion and... I kept chewing on my lower lip to keep from crying in front of him and Snape punished him for my screw up and I couldn't even find the guts to tell him it was my fault and..._

_This whole day has been a bloody nightmare. _

_Right now I'm sitting on my bed with the curtains closed and I'm trying to stop crying because Malfoy's aren't supposed to cry... and I know how absolutely pathetic I must be but... I can't help it right now. Everything's just hitting me at once. I want to rip my hair out and just... scream to the world that I don't want to do this anymore._

_Any of this. _

_Because I can't do anything right. I can't even make an effing sleeping draught. I can't even tell the teacher is was my bloody mistake and I can't ignore Harry's startling green eyes or his angelic voice and it tears me apart when he reminds me just how much he hates me. _

_And I can't even stop myself from crying when it reminds me how much I hate myself. _

_Blaise is back in the dorm now and I think he knows I'm upset because my curtains are closed and he won't leave me alone. I'm going to go lie through my teeth, tell him I'm okay, and sleep for the rest of the day. Maybe I'll be fine by morning._

_Draco Malfoy_

"Draco I'm not leaving until you talk to me." Grumbling, I wipe at me cheeks, open my curtains and look at him expectantly, trying to get my annoyance clear across.

"What do you bloody want, Blaise?" He sits down next to me.

"I want you to tell me what's wrong. And don't try to tell me you're okay because you're very clearly not." I glare at him, and giving up, sigh. I know I'm not getting out of this.

"I'm just having a bad day, Blaise." I mumble.

"Tell me about it." I almost laugh at how stubborn he can be. I sigh.

"It's just everything right now." I don't feel like repeating everything I just wrote down.

"Did you and Potter get into a fight again?" I bite my lip and shrug.

"Not really... It wasn't much a fight just... a bunch of insults." I wipe at my eyes, determined that I'm done crying about this. Blaise frowns.

"Hang in there, mate. Maybe you should just tell him." I look at him like he's insane.

"And give him more reason to laugh at me? I don't think so Blaise. Now if you don't mind I'm going to curl up and die now so I'd love for you to leave me alone." He snorts, seeming to find my melodramatic attitude rather amusing.

"Whatever you say, mate. But if you tell he might stop saying stuff like that to you."

I chose to ignore this, close my curtains, and skip classes for the rest of the day.

_8 December 1995_

_15 years ago to this day, John Lennon was shot outside his New York apartment. Not many would expect me to know much about muggle musicians but... John Lennon was one of the greatest men to walk this earth. He died only a few months after Harry's parents were killed. I was only a year old. _

_I did something very stupid today. A while ago, I heard that some muggles would cut themselves to distract from the pain of whatever they were going through. _

_I scoffed at first when I heard this. But Harry and I got into this huge fight today and I was ready to try anything and... I had my potions knife in my bag. So I figured I'd give it try. I skipped transfiguration and spent it in the loo on the second floor. _

_Surprisingly enough, it worked. The second that blade sliced my skin, I felt... calm. I stopped crying for a few moments to stare at the blood and..._

_Well, I couldn't stop. _

_I didn't think about hiding it until after I'd done it but... I guess I'm lucky it's winter. Because I won't be wearing short sleeves for a while. _

_But, it can't be that stupid can it? It helps. It's not like I'm trying to kill myself or anything... just calm myself down. That's not to say I don't consider suicide every once in while but... that's another story._

_It works and... I don't plan to stop._

_Draco Malfoy_

"FUCK!" I dump my bag out on the bed and start riffling through its contents. "Fuck fuck fuck."

"Uh..." I hear Blaise's voice from the doorway. "Lose something, Draco?" I turn on him, shoving him up against the wall.

"This is _your _bloody fault, Blaise!" He glares and shoves me off him.

"What the fuck are you on about Malfoy?"

"You got me writing in that bloody book!" Bugger. I should've known better write down shit like that. For exactly this reason.

"Are you talking about that diary of yours?" I round on the taller boy, trying to be as intimidating as possible.

"Yes, Blaise, I'm talking about that damn diary of mine. Because guess what Zabini, you got me writing in it, and I took it with me today and it's not in my fucking bag anymore." He raises his eyebrows.

"It's not my fault you lost it, Draco. Breathe. Go back to your classes and see if you left it there."

"I did!" I'm shouting now. "Fuck, Blaise, someone's gonna find it and I'm screwed over for the rest of my life!" Blaise rolls his eyes, giving me a strong urge to deck him in the face.

"It's not the end of the world Malfoy, relax. It'll turn up." Damning everything to hell I storm out of the dormitory intending to trace my steps for the day.

I don't find it.

HDHDHDHDHDHDHDH

I'm sitting in the Great Hall, dismally staring at a piece of toast. The date is December 10th, 1995. Two days since I first cut myself, and the morning after the diary that reveals that bit of information was lost. Blaise is staring at me staring at the toast, seeming torn between pity and amusement, and I'm currently wondering if I can kill myself with this butter knife.

I'm sure with enough pressure...

But why use a butter knife, anyway? Sure, it's the closest, most at hand object that can be potentially lethal (I left my potions knife next to my bed last night when... well, nevermind), but I could just as easily chuck myself from the astronomy tower...

My morbid thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by jeers from the rest of the Slytherin table. I look up to see none other than Harry Potter himself standing directly behind my chair.

"Can I talk to you Malfoy?" Though my stomach feels as though it's dropped to my feet and my hands are shaking, I pull together the Malfoy drawl and put on the patented smirk before I answer.

"I suppose so Potter. But make it quick, I have better things to do. Like maybe cleanse my eyes with a scouring charm." (for the record, doing such would be extremely painful).

"Alone, Malfoy." He doesn't seem amused. I raise my eyebrows and respond, trying to put the actual meeting off for as long as possible.

"I didn't know you swung that way, Potter. Hate to disappoint but..." I'm silenced by the look on his face.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't want to me to answer to that Malfoy. I think you know why." Unable to put this off any longer I stand and follow him out to the corridor.

He wastes no time in pulling something out of his robe pocket. My heart sinks. My journal. He found it. Suddenly unable to pull off my carefully constructed facade, I take a shaky breath and press the palms of my hands to my eyes.

"Oh god..." I whisper it softly. Of all people to find it...

"Care to explain this Malfoy?" I'm surprised to hear that his voice isn't jeering or mocking, but gentle. He must have read it. All of it. That's why he's not laughing.

"I-I I don't know what that is." I protest weakly. "I've never seen that book before in my life." He looks at me disbelievingly and lump lodges itself in my throat.

"Malfoy, this is your handwriting. Its dated up until the day before I found it." I dislodge my palms from my eye sockets and feel tears starting to sting behind my eye lids. I open them to find Harry's image to be rather blurry. I can't help my response.

"So, now what? You come to make fun of me for the bloody pouf I am or just being pathetic in general? Or maybe both?" Harry just stares as I desperately start wiping at my eyes without much success.

No no no! I can't cry in front of him. Oh Merlin please... Fuck. My body doesn't seem to be listening because tears are starting to slide down my cheeks.

"Well guess what, Potter." I snap at him. "it's not really appreciated so if you could just hand me that back and piss off that'd be great." Ignoring the embarrassment from crying in front of the Golden Boy, I reach out and try to take the journal from his hands. He holds it away from me. "Please." I whisper, wiping at my cheeks. "Just give it to me."

"Show me." He states quite plainly. I freeze, praying to whatever gods are listening that he's talking about something else. I try to put the Malfoy malice back into my words.

"Show you what, Potter?" I sneer at him.

"You know what Malfoy." I stare. He sighs and rubs his forehead. "Your wrists, Draco." He says it softly, and his tone of voice combined with his use of my first name unglues me all over again. Fuck. Why do I cry so easily? "Draco..."

I pull my sleeve up and shove my arm in his face, frustrated not so much with him, but with myself. He examines the cuts closely before looking at me.

"Why on Earth didn't you tell me, Malfoy?" His tone is firm, and somehow manages to make me feel stupid and inferior.

"I-I." I try to grab the journal again. "Just forget what you saw, okay?" I'm desperate now.

"No, Malfoy, I don't think I can. You said some pretty serious stuff in here." I glare at him.

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have been reading it to start with, so hand it here." I sniff, thankfully no longer crying.

"Maybe I shouldn't have but I'm glad I did." I freeze. Harry proceeds to wipe the lingering wetness from my skin and I bite down on my lower lip.

"You aren't going to laugh at me?" I ask uncertainly.

"Of course not Draco." He moves his face close to mine.

"Fourth year, yeah?" I nod, my entire body trembles. He comes even closer.

"Third."

And his lips are on mine.

_10 December 1_995

_So, maybe Blaise was right after all._

**Well there you have it. My first little oneshot. Yes, I KNOW it's been done a thousand times before but... I couldn't help myself. R-E-V-I-E-W please. I live for your opinions. **

**Sincerely,**

**xForeversEndx**


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